King of the Sandcastle
by NotSrsBsns
Summary: It was times like this Sparrow hated her profession. Being stuck with a prince who was decidedly not the brightest gem in the crown was not in the job description. Collaborative fic.
1. Chapter 1

It was a lovely day in Bowerstone. The birds were shining, the sun was chirping, and little kids were running under everyone's feet and tripping them up. The air was warm, ripples on the river winked as you walked across the bridge, and everyone was relaxed and cheerful.

Too bad Sparrow was on her way to lovely scenic and rainy Westcliff, currently mowing down her third group of bandits.

Everything was moving along as per usual. She attacked, the bandits died. Plain and simple. Unfortunately for Sparrow, fate, as always, decided to create a problem that caused even this uncomplicated happening to go spiraling down into an abyss. And that problem's name was Prince Reginald.

"Fear not, fair maiden!" came a scream from the bushes. A man, dressed extremely inappropriately for the area, jumped from behind a tree and charged headfirst into battle. And, to Sparrow's dismay, headfirst into her.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!" She shoved him away and regained her balance just in time to stab the man coming at her through the chest. Five more came up behind him. Sparrow charged a spell. Released, the men were burned to nothing, and finally the battle was over.

Sparrow turned to the well-dressed man, who was currently lying face down in the mud. "Well?"

He tentatively raised himself from the ground, making a face at all the muck that currently covered his entire front. Not in any hurry, the man took a handkerchief out, wiped himself down as best he could, and pocketed the dirty square of fabric. After adjusting his shirt one last time and fixing his hair, he turned to Sparrow.

"I was merely saving the damsel in distress. That _is_ what princes do, after all."

"…Right. Well, _Your Highness_," she paused to give a mock curtsey, "if you don't mind, I'll just be going."

Sparrow then turned, ready to leave. She had only taken a couple of steps when the man blocked her path, holding out his hand. After looking at it for a moment, she shook it, then pushed him aside, ready to continue her journey to Westcliff, which was taking a lot longer than it should have.

"Wait!" he called after her. "I believe an introduction is in order. I am Prince Reginald."

Sparrow glanced back to see the prince bowing slightly, matted red hair falling into his face.

"And _I_ am leaving. Try not to get yourself killed."

Ordinarily, Sparrow wouldn't have been so rude – particularly to a prince – but she really had somewhere to be. People were waiting for her in Wescliff, and she was already running late from a previous unexpected hindrance. She didn't need another. Unsurprisingly, fate did not agree.

Before she could even realize what was happening, an arrow was flicked from somewhere in the greenery, and Sparrow was falling. Down a cliff. With Reginald. She sighed, and braced for impact.

Not long after, Sparrow was conscious again. Luckily – or unluckily, depending on how one looked at it – she had managed to protect the prince, who was stirring back to life.

Ignoring Reginald, she inspected the damage. Only a couple of scraped here and there that would heal quickly enough. She winced as she moved her arm. A couple of scrapes and half an arrow in her shoulder. Running her fingers over the damage, she realized it could be worse. At least with most of the shaft left it was easy to pull out. Sparrow placed her hand on it, bracing for the pain. It was then Reginald decided to wake up.

"Oh my goodness, you've got an arrow in your shoulder!" Clearly that man was a genius. Even more so, when he then proceeded to freak out, each word coming from his mouth more irritating than the last.

Ignoring the whining, Sparrow merely grabbed the arrow again and pulled. Her face contorted in pain for a moment, and then the sensation dulled to a slight throbbing. She ripped the bottom of her shirt and bound her shoulder. After doing so, and while still ignoring the increasingly grating voice of the prince, she quickly scanned the area.

The beach they had landed on was more rock than sand, and the top of the cliff was so high the top couldn't even be seen through the mist. It was amazing even _she_ had gotten off with such slight injuries, let alone the- oh wait. Reginald _was_ hurt. He just didn't realize it yet.

He was too busy spazzing about Sparrow having an arrow in her shoulder and having natural painkillers pumped through him that he hadn't realized his leg was broken. Wonderful. Sparrow's natural protective instincts kicked in; no matter how irritating this man was, leaving someone with a broken leg with no way to get anywhere was not possible.

So, she could think of two options. Either she could tell him about his leg, and hope he wouldn't be so concerned over his injuries as he was over hers, or she could knock him out.

Sparrow chose door number two.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't worry," Sparrow shifted now awake Prince Reginald on her back as finished working her way back up the mountain. "We're almost there."

"A prince doesn't need to be carried by a woman," he grunted, doing his best to appear as if the bone in his leg wasn't splintered in two. "If anything, it should be the other way around. Let me down."

"There is nothing that I would enjoy more than to let you on your merry way, but you and I both know you can't get anywhere without my help at the moment. Also I'm going to forget that first part. "

He opened his mouth to protest when she shot him a glare with a particularly savage message implied. "You will do as I say."

"Yes ma'am," he whimpered.

Thankfully Sparrow had already been rather close to the Westcliff Camp (though close still equaled a good two to three hour trip), and was recognizing the telltale signs upon entry. The rain became steadily heavier, and then, of course, the Balverines.

"Prince," she nudged him to wakefulness, having fallen asleep earlier. "Have you ever fought a Balverine before?"

"No…I can't say that I have."

"Have you ever seen one before?"

"No," his tone was a little more apprehensive. "Should I have?"

"…Have you ever even _heard _of a Balverine?"

"…"

'_Fuck my life,' _Sparrow sighed. "We're moving right into their territory now, and without doubt we'll run into them. Balverines are…well…"

A familiar howl cut interrupted their conversation, and without hesitation she dropped Reginald on his ass. "And what do you think it is that you are doing?"

"Quiet!" she snapped. "The louder you are the more you attract!"

The sounds of snapping teeth and growling erupted from the bushes on her right. Sparrow didn't bother to meet them with the blade but rolled back and charged an Inferno spell that had them charred in seconds.

"Not too difficult," but then, nothing really was after the ordeal with Lucien. She turned towards Reginald. "But there will be more, and it will become increasingly more difficult to protect you. If you haven't noticed, they're annoyingly fast."

Reginald opened his mouth, probably to protest, but then closed it after a moment's consideration of her expression.

"I will stay out of the way."

Sparrow nodded her head. "Yes."

* * *

"Down by the reeds… swim the sirens of Oakvale out to the seas. Down by the reeds… down by the reeds…something something something something…"

"You have a lovely voice," Reginald commented, and then, as the trail dipped, "Watch your footing."

"Thank you," she replied. "A friend of mine taught it to me."

"Have you ever considered becoming a professional singer?" he wondered.

"No."

"No?"

"I was born to be a Hero," she told him. "From the very beginning."

Reginald ignored the spike of pain that shot up his leg as Sparrow sped up; by this point they could both see Westcliff Camp among the trees.

* * *

"I need to make one stop before we go into the town," Sparrow informed him, veering to the right. "It won't take too long."

"What business do you need to attend to?"

Sparrow frowned. "A friend of mine is in trouble."

"A rescue mission?" Reginald brightened considerably. "Now this is more like it!"

About half an hour later, the two arrived at a bandit camp. Sparrow helped the Prince to the ground and wondered at the lack of any noise coming from the inside.

"I'll be right back," she told him. She grasped her pistol, raised a leg, and kicked down the makeshift barrier. Reginald watched as she disappeared inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Sparrow cautiously tiptoed around the camp, hoping a surprise attack would make the rescue easier. The girl's paranoia rose as she continued to find the place to be quieter than a tomb. Provided there were no hollow men in said tomb. She suspected an ambush (not too unsurprising in her line of work, but irritating none the less), and prepared herself for the difficult battle that would inevitably occur in a minute or two, or perhaps a couple more steps to the left.

She sighed, almost nostalgically, when the predictable sound of sneaking footsteps crept up behind her. Sparrow pretended to not hear, hoping to surprise the attacker. As the sound got nearer, she thanked heavens that the prince wasn't there to screw things up, and waited for her golden opportunity.

Only it never came.

Instead, the rate of the footsteps suddenly jumped, and sounded suspiciously less human. Like the person had four legs instead of two.

Whoever it was was fast; Sparrow didn't have time to react (unusual in her case) before she was pushed face-first into the mud. It was through all this goop that she heard a familiar bark.

Successfully coating any remaining clean part of her clothing, the girl swiftly spun around to her back. A hairy face pressed itself to the girl's, and she smiled for the first time since her partner had gone missing.

Sparrow rubbed the dog all over as he just as enthusiastically returned the greeting by licking her face all over.

"Yuck, Chips! Why do you have blood all over your face? Did you give all those nasty hunters what they deserved?" The dog barked happily, and Sparrow praised the creature for its good work.

Looking up at the muddy and bloody creature, an idea sprouted, and Sparrow grinned.

"Hey, boy. I met this, uh, prince on the way here…"

No more than a few moments later, a girlish scream filled the humid air.

* * *

"That was _not_ funny, you know," Reginald pouted later from his position on Sparrow's back. "And did you _have_ to get covered in mud in there? You are grinding it into my clothing, and this is my most expensive coat!"

"Well, you'll just have to deal with it, won't you?"

Though it wasn't obvious to the prince, Sparrow's mood had gotten significantly better after finding her best friend. Her snarky replies became less snarky the closer they got to civilization, as she got closer to getting rid of the prince.

Finally, after much complaining and snarking, the two plus one dog made it to the pub. Sparrow dropped Reginald less than gracefully in a chair, glad the man was at last unable to whine directly into her ear. She stretched, and then began to head out.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called after her. "I, um, haven't thanked you properly!"

Sparrow rolled her eyes and stuck her head back into the pub.

"Calm down, O Lord of Complaints. I'm just getting a potion to heal your leg. I'll be right back."

"Right back" turned out to be several hours. For Sparrow, those hours were fantastic. She got to go talk to people she hadn't seen in a while, and managed to play with her dog without having to lug around that sack of expensive complaining potatoes. For Prince Reginald, the hours were less than pleasant. Despite the "brave front" he put up, as he liked to call it, he couldn't stand being stranded in such a cheap place. Happy hour didn't make the situation any better.

Eventually - when Sparrow was good and ready - she returned with the potion. Reginald was overjoyed, to put it mildly. In a matter of minutes, the man's leg was healed, and Sparrow was finally free. She hoped.

"Oh, my poor leg," he sighed, stroking it and wiggling his toes. "Don't worry, you're all better now. The nice lady fixed you." Sparrow turned away to order a drink and then proceeded to wipe her memory of what she had just seen.

The night began to fall, and Sparrow became increasingly more drunk. At the time she enjoyed herself immensely, and so did the people in the pub. In the morning, however, she found that her night had also included a letter, and agreeing to help Prince Reginald become an actual prince for his dear darling mummy.

As if the hangover wasn't bad enough.


	4. Chapter 4

"So let me get this straight," Sparrow sat up and rested her arms on the table. "Your mother kicked you out of your castle."

"Correct."

She raised an eyebrow at the prince. "And she told you that if you didn't become a more respectable and proper prince you weren't allowed to come back."

He nodded, embarrassed. "I also have to marry a princess."

"Why is that?"

"I don't know!" Reginald sputtered. "It's just how it's _done." _

Sparrow, who was one step away from arguing, was cut off when the prince blurted, "I'll pay you!"

She blinked. "Well, that changes things. How much?"

"Fifty thousand!

"I'm in," she replied immediately.

Reginald grinned. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She stared at him. "Don't think this is going to be easy. I'm going to train you the same way I was trained."

Reginald looked curious now. "Oh?"

She smiled in a way that suggested violence. "It'll be an interesting experience for you."

* * *

"Put your hands _up!" _Sparrow ordered as she swung down with a large branch. Reginald whimpered and raised his toy sword, only to have it knocked out of his hands and thrown onto his ass. Sparrow had decided early on it would be better to utilize fake weapons until she was sure she wouldn't kill him by accident.

"It's natural," Sparrow's eyes narrowed as she circled him. "To be afraid of getting hurt. However, if you don't want me to break your bones…"

Recognizing that tone of voice, the prince scrambled to his feet and grasped his mock weapon, holding it in front of him with two hands.

"…don't get scared, get _angry!" _

By some miraculous force of will, the prince held his ground as she brought down her weapon upon his. For the first time all day, the sword hadn't actually left his hands.

She stepped back and refused to smile. It was improvement, but not _that _much improvement. "Good job," she said. "We're done for today. Pick up this place and then head back to the Inn."

* * *

It took a week for Reginald to block at least decently, and when Sparrow noticed he was becoming rather relaxed with their routine, she decided to surprise him to keep his guard up.

"Today," she pointed her Katana to the forest beyond Westcliff. "We're going hiking. Your job is not to fight. Your job is to survive."

The prince flinched as a Balverine howled in the distance. "You'll still be there to help, right?"

"I'll make sure you don't die," she assured, smiling a little as he paled. "But the rest is up to you."

He groaned. "Is this really how you were trained?"

Without a moment's hesitation she nodded. "Yep."

"That's terrible!"

"Yeah, well," Sparrow shrugged and threw an arm around his shoulder as they began their way out of the Camp. "It works."

Not even twenty minutes later, unfortunately, the two were ambushed by bandits. Sparrow stood back and let Reginald take care of it, occasionally shooting her pistol when he became too overwhelmed. She wouldn't get paid if he died, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

"Come on, look for my weak spots!" Sparrow roared. "Watch to see where I'm swinging the sword!"

It had been a total of three weeks of training for Prince Regie. Despite being a complete whiner and possessing the ability to get his ass handed to him on a regular basis, Reginald was actually a fairly quick learner. Obviously, three weeks (even of nothing but training) was no where near enough to become fantastic at sword fighting, but Sparrow wasn't exactly willing to spend long enough with him for that.

"Can't we take a break?" whimpered Reginald.

"Breaks are for losers," Sparrow rebuked, bringing her sword down in another arc. In response, Reginald quickly blocked it, and went flying forwards, over exaggeratedly stabbing the air where Sparrow once was. "Don't be so obvious!"

"I'm trying!"

"Try harder!"

Back and forth they went, each yelling and waving their weapons around. Perhaps you would like to hear of this boring training scene. Perhaps I know jack shit about sword fighting.

"Stop looking at my face! You're not fighting my face!" Sparrow yelled at the prince, who was getting more disheartened by the minute. Said prince, once again getting frustrated, slashed at the hero. As if by some incredible miracle (or that irritating shrieking child not too far off), Reginald actually managed to land a hit. The two stopped and looked at each other.

"Ok, training is over, you're good enough, let's go kick some ass."

"Just like that?"

"Sure, why not," Sparrow replied, tossing her wooden sword away and walking off.

* * *

Later that evening, after the two plus one dog had set up camp, Sparrow and Reginald were sitting and eating dinner ("Ew, what _is_ that, a giant snail?" "Obviously.") when the delicate subject of what they were going to do next came up. Sparrow had taught the prince how to fight, but it was all for naught if they didn't have a princess to save.

"So, Reggie…" Sparrow started. "Know of any princesses you can get married to?" Wordplay was generally not among a hero's strong points. Unless that hero was Reaver. But no one cares about that douche, so let's move on.

"Well, I did hear about a princess in a kingdom nearby to mine, Princess Molyneux. I think her father is attempting to acquire a suitor for her presently, also."

"…You talk weird sometimes, you know that?" was Sparrow's eloquent response.

"HEY."

The two looked around at the sudden shout.

"HEY QUACK."

Clearly it was a talking duck, and Sparrow contentedly just went back to eating. She had come across much stranger things than it before, after all, like the prince who was currently half buried in a bush in his vain attempt to find the creature.

"Just leave it alone, Reg," Sparrow told him, mouth half full of giant snail. "It'll probably come to us anyway. And even if it doesn't, there are plenty of other weird things to find."

"HEY GUYS QUACK."

In a poof of smoke that smelled vaguely like photo chemicals, the duck was on Reginal's head. I don't know if you've ever had a duck on your head, but for Reginald it was a very unpleasant experience. He vainly tried to shake it off with a violent and decidedly un-royal spasm, but the duck held firm and in return left him a slimy present down the back of his shirt.

"SO I HEARD YOU GIRLS ARE LOOKING FOR A PRINCESS."

"Yeah," Sparrow answered, picking out another piece of snail. "You know of one?"

"THERE'S ONE IN THE MAOXA KINGDOM NAMED PRINCESS POMEGRANATE QUACK."

"That's not far from here, actually," Sparrow mumbled to herself. Then, to the duck, "Is there anything we have to look out for?"

"JUST THE STANDARD DRAGON-GUARDED CASTLE IN THE MIDDLE OF A VOLCANO, MISS."

"Please get off me…"

"STOP BEING A GIRL AND DEAL WITH IT QUACK."

Ignoring this outburst, Sparrow proceeded to get the details to where the castle was (thankfully, the bird carried a map), and then Mister Duck was on his way, much to the relief of Reginald. As the prince started on cleaning all the bird droppings from his back, Sparrow munched the remainder of the giant snail thoughtfully.

"You know, I think he was rather sweet."


	6. Chapter 6

It was a good day when nothing bothered to attack Sparrow on the road – and it was even better now that she was traveling to an area she hadn't been to before. The trip would open up all kinds of opportunities once she finally wasn't obligated to babysit Prince Reginald.

Presently, all Sparrow could gather from the Maoxa kingdom was that it was very mountainous, and that she had absolutely no problem in hiking up the mountain at night. Reginald, however, was very far behind, though she could still hear his labored breathing and occasional curses as he tripped. She rolled her eyes and waited for him to catch up.

"Can we slow down for a moment?" he gasped and put his hands on his knees. "I don't think I can take much more of this."

"_You _can't take much more? What about Princess Pomegranate? The dragon could be torching her by now."

Reginald blinked. "...The duck never said anything about her being _kidnapped _by the dragon."

"Trust me, she's been kidnapped by the dragon."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because," Sparrow answered with absolute confidence, "That is how it is _done. _Which makes our job much easier, anyway."

"How so?" Reginald grunted as they continued up the mountain.

"Instead of having to travel all the way to the castle to let the princess know that we are here to slay the dragon, we can skip right ahead to the fun part."

"Oh, yes," he said weakly. "Fun part. Do we have a strategy, at the very least?"

Sparrow turned to him, looking mildly surprised. "My, my, it looks like you're finally learning to ask the right questions. As an answer to your question; yes, I do have a strategy."

Reginald perked up considerably. "Yes?"

She pointed to her sword. "Just remember, the pointy end goes into the other guy."

Reginald gaped. "You can't be serious."

"Heh."

"You _are _serious."

Sparrow shrugged. "I've fought a lot of things in my lifetime. A dragon was not one of them. Mostly they were just flying rocks and men who seemed to be made of rocks."

"In all seriousness though," Reginald said, trying again. Because, really, his wellbeing _was_ a serious topic, at least to him. "Do you have any sort of plan?"

"Keep in mind here that the princess is our first priority. That will be your assignment. If the dragon wakes up, I'll take care of it."

Reginald, for a moment, felt a little slighted – that maybe _he _ should be the one to slay the dragon. That was how it was supposed to go, wasn't it? The prince slays the dragon saves the day marries the princess and has lots of screaming brats and dies of boring old age after pissing off a few civilians with taxes. But Reginald wasn't a knight, or even that impressive of a prince.

"I'm not a very good leader," he admitted to Sparrow, to himself.

"I know that," she said. "But you're not a very bad one, either."

Reginald was quiet the rest of the way up; eventually, Sparrow motioned for him to move slowly and watch his step. They were approaching a large cave. The inside was so dark they weren't able to see more than a few feet in, and what little moonlight they had didn't help much.

Sparrow noticed the prince's worried expression and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "I glow in the dark," she said, meaning to reassure him, and then motioned for him to follow her in.

Reginald was about to ask what the hell that meant, thought better of the glare he would receive as a result, and did as he was told, hand moving towards his scabbard.

'_The pointy end goes into the other guy...' _


End file.
